


The Singer in the Deep

by SongOfErin



Series: Myth Powered Giraffe [1]
Category: Steam Powered Giraffe, The Odyssey - Homer
Genre: Drowning, Enchantment, F/M, Gen, Myth Style, Shipwrecks, Sirens, When I Say Evil I Mean Evil, evil spine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfErin/pseuds/SongOfErin
Summary: A cruise ship full of passengers approaches a gorgeous island, ignorant of the evil that sleeps below the waves. In the fathomless deep, an ancient being awakes. At the sound of his song, the ship draws nearer...
Relationships: The Spine/Original Female Character
Series: Myth Powered Giraffe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210241
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	The Singer in the Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This entirely the Cavalcadium's fault. As is the planned series to follow this one...

Once there was an island in the middle of a beautiful sea, so exquisite that people flocked from the four corners of the earth to see it. But the island housed a terrible secret, one that should never have been forgotten. The old tales were no longer told, so no one thought to wonder what lurked in the deeps that surrounded the island. The old wisdom was lost, the old evil passed out of memory. But the danger remained.

The Siren stirred in his watery bed as he felt something approach his island. He opened eyes as red as blood and flashed the lights that speckled his tail. A ship. A ship was coming, to see his island, to gaze at his sea. He flicked his tail and rose to the surface, bubbles trailing behind him, and where the light shone from his eyes, there the foam turned crimson.

The sea and the wind trembled with its coming and called to him. ‘A great vessel approaches,’ they said, ‘with mighty engines, full of mortals.'

The Siren smiled to himself, for this was what he craved. He stirred the sea with his tail, sending out a current to bring the ship in nearer than the captain planned, nearer to the rocks. Then he rested himself on the white sand of the shore and waited.

The girl on the cruise ship watched the sun set over the ocean and marvelled at its beauty. She gazed upon the scarlet waves and saw, far in the distance, something rising, as though from the depths water. ‘What can that be?’ she wondered.

‘That is the Siren’s Isle,’ said the captain of the ship. ‘We will reach it tomorrow and then you shall see the most lovely spot on this earth. The waters here are clear as quartz and bluer even than the sky, the island is strewn with delicate flowers and the very breeze is perfumed with their scent.’

The girl strained her eyes to see this wonderful place, but the growing dark foiled her efforts, cloaking the distant island in shadow.

That night, she retired early. The island… The very thought of it filled her with a longing she had never known and though her head teemed with visions of what it would be like, she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

As she lay there, wrapped in slumber, a voice seemed to call to her. Deep it was, as deep as the fathomless sea, and gentle as a lover’s caress. ‘Draw near to me, draw near to me,’ it sang. And in the dream, the girl rose from her bed and drifted out, through the window, and into clear, shimmering moonlight. The island rose in front of her and a breeze played with her hair, bearing the scents of night-blooming flowers.

Her toes skimmed the waves and the voice spoke again. ‘Nearer, nearer, across the sea,’ it called, and the girl’s heart ached with yearning. ‘Alone am I, alone I be. Come unto me. Come unto me.’

‘I come to you!’ the girl cried. So full of sorrow and beauty was the voice that it pierced her right through to her heart. She heard in it the grief of eons, a loneliness that had lasted countless ages and desperately she sought to end it. ‘I can help you!’ she said, but the moon withdrew behind a cloud and the light shone no more. Where was the owner of the voice, this lonely being she had to help?

‘Draw near to me…’ The voice was fading, a whisper on the wind. ‘Alone I be…’

The girl turned, but all was darkness and the next thing she saw was the ceiling of her cabin.

The morn was fair and bright and when the passengers looked out their windows, they gasped, for they were much nearer the island than any had thought they would be.

The girl stood at the rail once more and fastened her eyes upon the smooth green fields of the land before them. If she strained her eyes, she could almost make out the flowers in the meadow grass. Somewhere on that island she knew she would find the singer who had called to her in her sleep. She longed to set foot on that beckoning shore and comfort the poor soul who sang in such beautiful despair.

The other passengers joined her at the rails, filling the decks so that the ship swayed. They lined the sides, each one staring towards the island. ‘Such dreams I had last night!’ they said to one another. ‘I heard my long-lost sister calling for me!’ ‘I could have sworn my first true love out there.’ Some were silent, but their eyes sparkled with greed as they looked at the isle, certain that wealth and fortune would be theirs if only they could reach it.

The girl paid them no heed, for she knew in her heart of hearts that none had dreamed as she had. Only she knew the truth, the aching sorrow of the singer.

‘Boats will be lowered for all who wish to go ashore,’ the captain announced. The cheer that went up startled seagulls from their perches and rang out across the sea.

‘You fool!’ cried a voice as the sound died away. ‘Only evil will come of it if any of us set foot on that island. Turn this ship away, before it is too late!’ The crowd parted and the speaker was revealed. An old woman, she lent upon a crutch and glared fiercely up at the captain, her eyes flashing.

‘You speak nonsense, old woman,’ the captain declared, gazing down from the bridge with scorn. ‘What evil can there be? The isle is not even inhabited.’

‘You know not of what you speak,’ the woman cried, ‘and your folly will be the death of us all, you ignorant man! Turn away, while there is still time.’

‘Be silent, old crone,’ said the captain. ‘You frighten my passengers with your wild tales.’ The crowd muttered angrily in agreement.

‘I remember the old stories, even if none of you do,’ the woman spat. ‘We will all be silent, in the end.’ She shook her head and began to limp away.

The girl frowned, torn between watching the isle draw nearer and concern for the old lady, thinking she might be ill. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, as one by one, the onlookers turned back to look at the island, as though the woman’s pronouncements had been nothing but the crying of a gull.

The woman looked at her and shook her head again. ‘There is no point in my telling you, for the creature has you ensnared. With the others it is money or someone they grieve for, the thing they desire most. But he has caught you with kindness.’

‘Caught? No one has caught me.’

The woman smiled sadly. ‘You think me mad, perhaps. It matters not. If that fool will not sail away from here, then we are all doomed. But at least my death will not be for that creature’s satisfaction.’ She turned and hobbled away, leaning on her crutch.

The girl watched her go sadly. The poor woman was not mad, simply old. No doubt she was getting confused, thinking her childhood stories had come true. How could anyone mistake the lonely, desperate song she had heard for something evil?

Her thoughts were drawn back to the island and her eyes with them. Now the sweet scent of flowers drifted across the sea and as it met her nostrils, the memory of the old woman’s warning faded as if it had never been. Somewhere across the heaving swell was the one who had sung to her, the one who _needed_ her. ‘I come to you,’ she whispered.

The ship slowed as it drew nearer to the isle and the closer it got, the more keenly all felt the need to land on the shore. A humming seemed to fill their ears, soft and persistent, vanishing when anyone tried to listen.

The girl found herself humming along, to a tune she did not know. Or was it the one from her dream?

 _Draw near to me. Draw near to me. Nearer, nearer, across the sea. Alone am I, alone I be. Come unto me. Come u_ _nto me…_

At last, the ship was anchored and the boats made ready to launch. Of course, there were not enough for all the passengers and crew and everyone, save one old woman, wished to go ashore. The crowds pushed and struggled to be the first in line. Bitter quarrels broke out in a dozen different languages and rivals were elbowed viciously aside.

The humming swelled, until they could almost hear words, and every face turned once more towards the island. Clenched fists uncurled and hands that had been raised in anger now hung loosely at their owners’ sides.

The boats were launched in orderly fashion and though she had been sure she was far back in the line, somehow the girl found herself seated in the very last one. They set out upon the calm and gentle waves, their engines pushing them easily through the water. No one remarked on where they would be landing, but all could see it in their minds, clear as day. The girl’s boat began to draw ahead of the rest, as though some unseen hand were pulling it onwards. It overtook the boat in front and then the next and the next, though the note of its engine never changed.

Rocks rose around them like guards and the girl gulped. They had not looked so tall, so threatening from the deck of the ship. But their boat slipped easily between them and they came drifting into a cove where the island sloped down to the sea. The humming grew louder, echoing off the rocks and filling their ears and a tear sprang to the girl’s eye. She stepped out of the boat and as soon as her foot touched the sand, words came floating to her on the scented wind.

‘Alone am I, alone I be… Come unto me. Come unto me.’

‘I’m coming!’ she called and other voices echoed with hers as the rest of the passengers spilled from the boat. ‘I’m here!’ ‘Where are you?’ ‘My love?’

Only a single crewman remained in the boat, his face blank, his eyes staring, and he turned back to the ship, leaving the passengers on the island as the other boats began to land.

The girl left them all behind, running towards the song that called her. Up the slope of the isle, through the meadows, heedless of the flowers that nodded in the grass, she ran, pulled onwards by the deep, resonant voice. Down dropped the land again, back to the sea, to a narrow beach facing the cruise ship. The song grew louder, winding around her heat, and the tears fell from her eyes in streams. ‘I’m here!’ she called. ‘I can help you.’

‘You came…’ His voice was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard, deep as the limitless ocean, as rich as sunken treasure.

She stepped around a rock and saw the one who had called to her.

His form was as enchanting as his voice, a seamless melding of man and fish. He lay upon the golden sand, his tail arched over his back and his sculpted face resting on his hand. His body was sheathed in gleaming silver metal and fins rose sharply from his spine. His eyes glowed like crimson jewels, red as the sunset, as did the lights that curved in glittering lines across his body.

All this the girl saw and in that moment, if she had not been before, she was in love with him, as fully as anyone has ever loved.

‘You came to me,’ he said again, gazing up at her.

‘Of course,’ she replied, falling to her knees beside him and reaching out her hand. ‘You do not have to be alone anymore.’

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm with sun-warmed lips. ‘I have been alone,’ he admitted, ‘all these long ages. I am so glad you came, my love.’ He drew her to him and kissed her again. He cradled her in his arms and they sat for a time, watching the sea.

‘Look,’ he said, as the sun neared its zenith, and he pointed at the ship. ‘They are all in the boats now. There is no one left aboard.’

They watched the last of the boats draw nearer to the rocks.

‘Shall I sing for you?’ he whispered and the girl nodded. If only she could hear him sing again, nothing else mattered.

He wrapped his arms tight around her and opened his mouth. ‘Draw near to me… I am all you desire…’

And he was all she desired, the girl realised. Her old life was swallowed by the song, leaving only her yearning for him.

Then he pointed again and she saw the people in the boats move. The song swelled, a fervour of desperation, and the figures leaped into the water. They swam as hard as they could for the shore. But the surf boiled around the rocks and sucked them under. Great sharp fins came cutting through the water and those who were left disappeared beneath the waves. The foam around the rocks turned scarlet with blood.

‘I called the sharks,’ he murmured in her ear, ‘and I called the sea to drown them, just as I called it to bring you here.’

The girl nodded, unable to remember who those people had been or why it mattered that they had gone.

‘And now we look the other way,’ he said, turning them both to face the meadows, his tail curled heavily about her.

People dotted the fields, some scanning the island with their hands shielding their eyes, others talking to thin air and still others digging up the ground with their hands, the fever of greed upon their souls.

He began to sing again and as his voice filled the air, the people stopped what they were doing. They sat down upon the turf, rubbing their eyes, then lay back and slept.

‘Come,’ he said, and drew the girl into the ocean with him. He held her tightly in his arms and his great tail beat the water with ease, so that she was never once afraid. He circled the island lazily, passing between the glowering rocks and overtaking the last few boats as they landed. On and on he swam, around the cliffs and the meadows, and all the time he sang. Each person who heard the song lay down to sleep, on the grass, on the sand or in the sea, the water closing peacefully over their heads.

‘They will never wake again,’ he told her. ‘They will sleep until they die.’

‘But not me,’ thought the girl.

‘Not you,’ he said as they swam back to their beach. ‘Not you.’ He embraced her in the water and the girl wept, for to be with him was all she desired.

‘Hush now,’ he said and kissed her once more. Then he smiled, one corner of his black mouth curving upwards.

The haze lifted from the girl’s mind and she remembered. She remembered the old woman’s warning. She looked about her, her body shaking with fear and saw the bloody foam on the surface of the sea. She saw the ship, empty, pulling loose from its anchor and drifting towards the rocks that would tear it open. And she saw the meadows with their sleepers and the delicate flowers that grew among ancient, bleached bones.

‘No…’ she whispered.

The Siren, his eyes red as blood, took her by the chin and kissed her again. Then he pushed her beneath the surface of the waves. As she choked and struggled, the last sight she saw was the Siren’s gleaming eyes and his crooked, wicked smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Illustration by Minavi  
> Based on Homer, 'The Odyssey', trans. E.V. Rieu (London: Penguin, 1946). I'm a History student, okay? I do citations properly.


End file.
